


come out and play

by thunderylee



Category: NewS (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Polyamory kinda, Romance, koyama's feelings, love live! mood, member love, smut with substance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 17:03:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18721279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Shige teaches Koyama how to make risotto.





	come out and play

**Author's Note:**

> koyama mentioned recently that he's started to cook for himself, though he's not as good as shige. xD he's also obsessed with the anime _love live!_ , and after watching both seasons of _school idol project_ i am convinced that he related more to the content than simply thinking the girls are cute. member-ai forever. 
> 
> title from the billie eilish song that is ironically not on the album shige tried so hard to say in english on his radio show. <3

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Shige asks carefully, looking from one of Koyama’s eyes to the other like he’ll find any kind of consent in there.

Slowly, Koyama nods. “I do.”

“It’s going to be a lot of hard work,” Shige goes on. “And very messy.”

“I’m up to the challenge!” Koyama declares, pumping his fist like they’re on a variety show.

“Okay...” Shige says, not at all convinced that his best friend will actually go through with this. “Let’s do it.”

The sultry beats of Billie Eilish’s latest album pour through the speakers of Shige’s surround system as Koyama leans against the marble counter, watching intently while Shige reaches into the refrigerator and starts pulling out ingredients.

“What do we do first?” he asks, a little excitedly, and Shige feels a little less like his kitchen is going to go up in flames with Koyama at the helm.

“ _You_ are going to wash and cut vegetables,” Shige instructs, gesturing grandly toward the produce he had retrieved from the crisper drawer. “I am going to supervise.”

“You’re not going to do _anything_?” Koyama gapes, giving Shige these big puppy dog eyes that are not at all effective on a thirty-five-year-old man, even if his bangs are tied up in a pineapple ponytail and he’s wearing a purple frilly apron that he had bought with his own money specifically for this occasion. “Lazy Shige.”

Shige’s feathers ruffle a little at the accusation, but he lets it go. “You are the one who wanted me to teach you how to cook. What kind of teacher would I be if I did everything for you?”

Huffing, Koyama pushes himself off of the counter and peers at the vegetables in the sink. “Do I still have to wash the ones with skins on?”

“Yes,” Shige answers. “You have skin that you wash, don’t you?”

“I’m not an onion...” Koyama trails off, making a face as he gets to work.

This is more amusing than Shige had initially expected. When he’d learned about Koyama’s unexpected foray into cooking (from his mother of all people, who reads all of their Jwebs religiously and keeps Shige updated on what everyone is doing whether he cares or not), he’d offered to give Koyama a few easy recipes to add some variety to the boring pasta dishes he’s made thus far. Somehow, that had turned into Shige donating his kitchen—along with his rare free time in the middle of a concert run—for a cooking lesson.

“We should have recorded this,” Shige says as Koyama keeps dropping the vegetables in the sink in his attempt to scrub them. “Add it to the documentary or something.”

“Not everything I do with you has to be in front of a camera,” Koyama replies, his tone so void of his usual cheerfulness that Shige frowns in concern.

“No, it doesn’t,” Shige says slowly.

The smile returns to Koyama’s face as he presents a shiny red bell pepper like it’s a self-made creation. “Done!”

“Okay, now dry them off and cut them. You’ll need to peel the onion and garlic first, and make sure all of the seeds and ribs are out of the pepper unless you want some really spicy risotto.”

Koyama gets the onion peeled well enough, but the garlic cloves give him trouble and Shige has to physically stop himself from taking over after the third one ends up in the trash can from Koyama losing his grip.

“How are you even making pasta without garlic?” he asks incredulously.

“I buy the already minced stuff!” Koyama whines. “Shige, help.”

“No. You wanted to learn, so learn.”

“Mean Shige.”

 _Yeah, that’s why I’m standing here with you instead of writing or cleaning or even just relaxing alone_ , he wants to say, but he doesn’t. Koyama may have been his best friend for almost two decades, but that just means he knows what lines not to cross. Guilting Koyama about wasting Shige’s time is one of them. It had taken _months_ to recover from the last and only time he had done that.

After a few more false starts, just like a complicated dance sequence, Koyama gets the garlic peeled and manages to slice up the pepper without cutting himself. Shige had dug out his mini food processor for the rest, not for convenience but because he didn’t want to have to race them to the hospital to have Koyama’s finger(s) reattached. Koyama tosses in the garlic cloves first, then stares at the onion like it’s a particularly complex equation he needs to figure out.

“Just cut it,” Shige encourages him. “It only has to be small enough to fit in the processor.”

Koyama looks like he wants to protest, but then he sets his jaw and gets to work. Shige watches curiously as Koyama chops the onion in half, then executes crooked slices that are thin enough to serve the purpose. Then he sniffles and squeezes his eyes shut, and Shige realizes right away why he’d been apprehensive about cutting them.

“It’s okay,” Shige says gently. “Onions are supposed to make you cry.”

“It _hurts_ ,” Koyama hisses. He peeks one eye open and immediately closes it again, wincing at the sting that Shige knows all too well.

“It hurts because you are holding back,” Shige explains. “Just let the tears come out. It’s far from the first time I’ve seen you cry, you know.”

“I don’t like crying when it’s not out of happiness,” Koyama mumbles as he reluctantly follows orders, his eyes opening easier once the liquid inside them starts flowing out.

“Are you not happy right now?” Shige asks, pouting for effect. “If you don’t want to do this, we can stop and do something else. It’s your birthday.”

Koyama shakes his head so hard that Shige fears there might be sheds of blond in the vegetables he’d just cut up. “I want to do this. The hard part is over. Let’s keep going.”

Shige frowns at the blatant avoidance of whatever Koyama’s feeling in his heart, but he abides by Koyama’s wishes. He’ll get the truth out of him eventually—he always does.

“Okay, now we’re going to drizzle olive oil in a frying pan and set up the peppers and sausage on a baking tray to roast,” Shige says instead, then laughs at the absolutely blank look on Koyama’s tear-streaked face. “One thing at a time, Kei. Make a ‘z’ shape with the oil on the pan and turn on the burner—in that order.”

Koyama’s better at following directions when there aren’t vegetables involved, easily preparing both the frying pan and the baking tray for their respective uses. Once the oil in the pan starts to steam, Shige instructs him to toss in the onions and periodically stir them around, using the time in-between to mix chicken stock concentrate with hot water for the next part.

Once the oven is pre-heated and the tray of sausage and peppers are roasting, it’s time to add the minced garlic and rice grains to the grilled onions and pour in the chicken stock mixture little by little until it’s absorbed. Koyama looks fascinated by the way the rice cooks right before his eyes, getting fluffier and fluffier with each small batch of liquid.

Shige feels strangely proud, like Koyama is his prodigy into whom he’s ingraining the joys of cooking. Yes, it’s time-consuming and tedious, but the reward (aside from eating delicious food) is in the pride of doing it yourself, working hard to create something good using only raw materials and your own drive to succeed. Like putting together a song from scratch, or even writing a novel, something that Koyama hasn’t really experienced for himself thus far in his life.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Koyama asks, sniffing again as he attempts to wipe his eyes on his sleeve without touching them with his hands. “I know my face is all gross right now, you don’t have to tell me. Don’t I need to do something with this lemon?”

“Yeah,” Shige rushes to answer, not quite ready to try and express what he feels right now in words. “Zest the outside until it’s white and then cut it into quarters.”

He gets another blank stare at “zest,” and he tries not to laugh as he points to the thin grating tool. Koyama takes it from there, though he gets more lemon zest on the counter than in the small bowl. Then the oven timer goes off and Koyama spins around, remembering to grab the oven mitt before retrieving the baking tray of sizzling peppers and sausage.

“Give it a few minutes to cool off, then slice the sausage at an angle,” Shige instructs, and this time Koyama nods in understanding. He’s almost out of chicken stock mixture, so Shige goes on to tell him what all to add to the risotto once the liquid is all absorbed. Koyama spins around a few more times as he makes sure he has the right amount of butter and Parmesan cheese ready, and whatever Shige’s feeling grows even more at how comfortable Koyama has become in his kitchen.

That’s nothing compared to what he feels when Koyama grins as he presents his final creation, the thick risotto topped with sausage, red pepper, and lemon zest, and Shige doesn’t bother to hold it back as he applauds with a grin of his own.

“I did it!” Koyama exclaims needlessly. “My eyes still hurt and I’m nervous as hell, but I made Shige’s special risotto.”

“Why are you nervous?” Shige asks as he retrieves two bowls from the cupboard. “You did everything perfectly. It’s going to taste great.”

“That’s not why,” Koyama says, though he doesn’t elaborate and Shige just adds it to the list of things to badger out of him later. “Now, will you watch _Love Live!_ with me while we eat?”

Shige sighs. “I suppose I can sit through one episode.”

As weird as it feels to watch a shoujo anime with another grown man, the fact that it’s Koyama makes all the sense in the world. The risotto helps, thick and creamy with just the right amount of kick, which Koyama hardly puts a dent into while chattering about all of the characters and what happens to them in later episodes. Good thing Shige doesn’t plan on actually watching the whole series, because he’d be spoiled for everything.

He just listens and appreciates the way Koyama fawns over these girls like they were real people, understanding that feeling very well from his own writing. He notices some similarities between this anime universe and their careers, which is probably why Koyama relates to it so much despite the fact that he is very much not a teenage girl.

“It really shows what it’s like to be an idol, doesn’t it?” Shige comments when Koyama finally takes a breath and starts to eat properly. “How it’s all about making other people happy and inspiring them in positive ways, and how you have to have that kind of selfless mindset in order to be authentic.”

Koyama grunts in response, and Shige turns to see him staring down at his bowl.

“Is it too spicy?” Shige asks, and Koyama shakes his head.

“It’s perfect,” Koyama says, then sighs in direct contrast to how happy he was ten minutes ago. “Don’t you think that kind of selfless mindset clashes with the usual life track?”

“What do you mean?”

“Things like marriage and a family,” Koyama explains, hanging his head like he’s ashamed by what he’s saying. “They’re impossible for someone who finds inexplicable joy out of being an idol. Especially if they have been doing it for their entire lives.”

Shige almost breathes out his own sigh of relief. “You _are_ going to get married and have a family, Kei,” he says firmly, his head feeling much lighter now that he knows the reason why Koyama’s been so melancholy today. “You’re only thirty-five. There is still plenty of time for you to meet someone.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

That has Shige glancing over to the side, where Koyama’s still staring at his half-eaten risotto. “You don’t want a family anymore?”

“I don’t know that I could do that now,” Koyama says slowly, and as much as Shige wants to prod him along, he forces himself to wait for Koyama to speak at his own pace. “It feels like I would be giving up everything I am, you know? Like, I know some of our senpai have families and still work as idols, but they don’t tour as a group or make new music anymore.”

He pauses, and Shige waits a few seconds before he’s certain that Koyama is waiting for him to respond. “Ever since I have known you, you have wanted to be a husband and a father. Has that changed?”

“I don’t think it was ever real,” Koyama answers, and now he lifts his eyes to meet Shige’s. They’re still a little red from the onions, and Shige can’t tell whether the liquid that starts to fill them is from the lingering sting or not. “It was a nice idea in theory, back when it was a faraway goal instead of something I was actively working toward. The _thought_ of having a spouse to love and raising children of my own was appealing, but as it turns out, actually going through with it is not.”

“You don’t know that yet, do you?” Shige asks carefully. “Have you even met anyone whom you could have been that serious about?”

“No, because I don’t _want_ to,” Koyama answers firmly. “I’m thirty-five now, Shige. It’s not even a faraway goal anymore—the older I get, the less that kind of future suits me.”

If Shige’s being honest, his mind has been completely blown and he’s not entirely convinced that Koyama’s not just having a mid-life crisis right here on his couch, but another line he won’t cross is distrusting Koyama’s own assessment of his thoughts and feelings. Even if it’s just for the moment, what Koyama says is exactly how he feels.

“It’s okay if your life goals have changed,” Shige finally says, because all he can really do right now is support whatever path his best friend thinks he’s choosing. “I don’t think you should rule it out completely though. You never know what fate might have in store for you.”

“Fate,” Koyama scoffs. “I’m already living it, aren’t I? It’s my fate to be an idol. _Nothing_ compares to the euphoria I feel from devoting every iota of my being to providing happiness and comfort to our fans, just like the girls in this show. The closest I have ever felt that in the context of spending forever with another person has been...well, with the three other members, because we’re already doing it together.”

Shige frowns as he decides what to say next. He knows what he _should_ say, and while it’s not exactly crossing a line, it won’t make Koyama feel better either. Then again, at this point in his life, Shige’s not that sure about what he wants either. He’s still young enough to put off those kinds of thoughts for another couple of years, but apparently Koyama is not.

“I’m not _that_ idealistic,” Koyama goes on, like he were addressing the concerns Shige didn’t actually speak out loud. “I know that you and Tego and Massu will eventually get married and have your own families, and that will change the frequency of our group work. But it doesn’t change how I feel about being an idol, our fans, and the three of you. My happy ending is made up of that and only that.”

“What are you saying?” Shige asks, struggling to keep the emotion out of his voice because everything within him wants to react strongly to Koyama’s words without fully understanding what they mean.

Koyama takes a deep breath, then clearly says, “I don’t need things like a family, because I already have one with NEWS.”

“That’s...” Shige starts, frowning when he notices Koyama’s cringe. “That’s okay too.”

“Oh, is it?” Koyama snaps, his demeanor changing so fast that Shige isn’t prepared for the rare appearance of Koyama’s sarcasm. “It’s easy for you to sit there and say that when you have a million other things going on, writing and acting and whatever you’re doing to dismantle the patriarchy or however you call it. NEWS could disband tomorrow and you’d be set for life. Tego and Massu too.”

“Don’t say that!” Shige exclaims, his own tone becoming louder as his heart aches at the thought of NEWS disbanding. “It’s true I have been blessed with other callings, but NEWS is my number one priority. You know that! Tegoshi and Masuda have said that too! The four of us have fought too hard for too long to let _anything_ rise above our group in importance. Any _one_ too.”

Koyama doesn’t look convinced, but he’s calmed down considerably. “NEWS is _all_ I have now, Shige. I’m not even a newscaster anymore, and that’s okay. I don’t need anything else. I just...feel like I’m doing it wrong. My whole life, I’ve thought that I would get married and have children, and now that’s the farthest thing from what I want. Even if it’s unreasonable, I want forever with NEWS.”

“I think...” Shige trails off as he considers his options. “I think we should call Tegoshi and Masuda over here.”

“They’re busy,” Koyama replies immediately. “I don’t want to impose—”

“This is important,” Shige says firmly, and Koyama falls silent. “Your feelings are important to the group—”

“I’m still figuring it out,” Koyama cuts him off. “Let me decide what I want to do before getting anyone else involved, okay? It’s only been a few years that I’ve felt this way, so it might change again.”

“A few years?!” Shige exclaims, and this time he reaches over to touch Koyama’s arm when the older man cringes. “That’s a long time to keep something this heavy all to yourself! Even if it changes, it’s better to share your burdens than carry them alone.”

“Isn’t it more horrible to build it up so much and then say, ‘oh, nevermind’?” Koyama asks. “Especially Tegoshi, who is already fragile when it comes to this kind of emotional involvement.”

“What is it that you want from us?” Shige asks, then frowns at the way the words come out. “I mean, you already said you expect us to get married and have our own families, so it’s not like you want the four of us to have some kind of exclusive group relationship or anything. What is the endgame for this happy ending of yours?”

Koyama glances down at where Shige’s making contact with him, then covers Shige’s hand with his own. The following squeeze is so intimate that Shige feels the words before they come out of Koyama’s mouth. “The four of us, _forever_. Our lives intertwined, work and family and even the bad stuff nobody wants to talk about, until I take my last breath. Even when we’re too old to dance, I still want us to be _something_ , because the only way it’ll be okay if I’m not an idol anymore is if the three of you are there to keep the feeling alive.”

Now, Shige’s eyes start to sting, and there’s not an onion in sight. “Somehow, I feel more moved than if you’d actually confessed your love for me.”

“Oh, Shige,” Koyama huffs. “Romantic love pales in comparison to what I feel when I’m with you. I wouldn’t even know the difference, aside from the sex stuff, and we’ve been there and done that.”

Shige laughs, recalling the many times he and Koyama have worked out that kind of frustration together over the years. “Yeah, we have.”

“I don’t feel that with anyone outside the group,” Koyama goes on, and Shige holds his hand properly, rubbing Koyama’s thumb with his own as Koyama gathers his courage to keep speaking from the heart. “If you want to take it as a love confession, so be it. As long as you understand that it’s much more than that. More than just _you_ even. And I definitely want you to get married and have babies for me to spoil since I won’t have any of my own.”

“You might have to rely on Tegoshi or Masuda for that,” Shige tells him. “I’m less interested in that kind of future than you are.”

“Ugh, what is _wrong_ with us?” Koyama asks, flopping halfway into Shige’s lap and pouting up at Shige with his silly pineapple bangs bouncing on his head. “Why can’t I just be normal?”

“Nothing is wrong with us,” Shige says as he easily adjusts to sitting with Koyama this way. “This _is_ our normal. You’ve just been brainwashed that there’s only one way to be. For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you for being true to yourself, because the Koyama Keiichiro who lives his life authentically and speaks from his heart is the only one I want to know.”

Koyama giggles. “Now, I feel like _you_ just confessed to _me_.”

“Maybe I did.” Shige shrugs. “Get up here and hug me properly.”

The next second has Koyama’s arms around his neck, his face pressed into Koyama’s collarbone as Koyama squeezes him so tightly that there’s no room for any other thoughts or feelings. Shige embraces him with just as much strength, and it’s like all of Koyama’s apprehensions and anxiety just disappear as the tension between them fades to a comfortable calm.

“So,” Shige begins, smirking as he pulls back enough to see Koyama’s dry eyes. “Do you want the four of us to have sex together, or...”

He’s entirely joking, which just means he’s the one who ends up in shock when Koyama just shrugs. “I mean, if that’s what ends up happening, I won’t mind.”

Shige gapes at him. “Seriously?”

“Or maybe just you...”

Koyama lifts his eyes to meet Shige’s, and Shige’s hit with an emotion he doesn’t quite understand. It’s not romantic love, or even sexual attraction that has him leaning forward, more of a sensual urge for physical closeness mixed with a growing desire to share this kind of pleasure with this person. Koyama kisses him back with what feels like years of yearning, tongues easily sliding together as reality fades in favor of whatever they’re creating together.

Shige finds himself with his back on the couch and he’s not that bothered by it, especially with the weight of Koyama’s lean body stretching out on top of him. A hand appears at his waist and he gasps at the sudden contact, the light touch sending much more familiar sensations throughout his body as the temperature between them rises.

“Kei...” Shige fights to get out between deep kisses. “Kei, wait.”

“Please don’t tell me to stop,” Koyama replies, his breathing heavier than it should be after only a minute of making out. “I mean, I will if you really don’t want to, but if it’s for any other reason, please don’t.”

“I was just going to suggest that we move to my bed,” Shige says, his own chest heaving as the reality of being like this with this person returns to the forefront of his mind.

Koyama’s face relaxes, his grin returning as he hops up off of Shige and unceremoniously drags him down the hall to his own bedroom. “I didn’t expect to get this for my birthday,” he says as he lifts Shige’s shirt over his head. “I’m so happy.”

Shige responds by returning to Koyama’s mouth, which Koyama does not protest as the pair of them help each other out of their clothes and eventually tumble onto Shige’s unmade bed. Koyama’s hands splay all over Shige’s body like he’s trying to touch everywhere at once, heightening the arousal that has Shige rolling them over until he’s pinning Koyama to the bed. His erection bumps Koyama’s and they both moan, Shige’s hips giving an involuntary cant in a desperate attempt to get more friction.

“Is Shige gonna go inside me like this?” Koyama asks, lifting his knees to either side of Shige’s hips in the most obvious invitation possible. “After opening my heart to you, I want to feel you as close as humanly possible.”

Shige feels the same way, but his voice doesn’t want to work. All that comes out is a low moan, which Koyama seems to accept as a suitable answer as he guides Shige in for another kiss. This one is more heated, moans dying on each other’s tongues as Koyama lifts his hips to rub them together some more, and the last of Shige’s coherence slips away in favor of blind lust.

He gets what he needs without untangling himself from the man beneath him, and gentle hands turn rough on his shoulder blades as he starts to stretch Koyama open for him.

“You okay?” he asks against Koyama’s lips as he circles the twitching muscle until it lets him in. “When was the last time you had anyone inside you?”

“When was the last time it was you?” Koyama gets out through his hitched breath, and Shige’s heart feels even bigger than it already did. “It’ll be fine. Just keep going. I definitely want you, I’m just scared.”

Shige abruptly stops, ignoring the whine that he feels everywhere they make contact as he forces himself to stare through the haze of his arousal at Koyama’s cringing face. “Why are you scared?”

“We’ll talk about it later, just—”

“No, we’ll talk about it now,” Shige says firmly, and Koyama whines even louder when Shige turns them both onto their sides, facing each other. “Tell me why you’re scared.”

“I don’t want this to be just a sexual thing, with us,” Koyama blurts out, playing with his fingers while he visibly shakes from everything he feels right now. “I want to have sex with you, because that’s one way to satisfy my overwhelming urge for closeness, but the last thing I want is to be your sex friend. You mean too much to me to be demoted to such a two-dimensional role.”

“I’m offended that you would even think that I’d look at you that way,” Shige replies, pressing a kiss to Koyama’s cheek while his hand stays steady on Koyama’s bare hip. “I feel the same way you do, Kei. In fact...turn around.”

“What? Why?” Koyama asks, but he’s already following directions just like earlier in the kitchen.

The instant Shige’s looking at Koyama’s back, he slides an arm around the thin waist and pulls the other man close. His face settles into the crook of Koyama’s neck, lips grazing the skin briefly before burrowing his nose instead, enjoying the pleasure that comes from this kind of intimate cuddling instead of his primal sexual need.

“Do you get it?” Shige whispers, and Koyama nods through his shudder. “This is you and me right now, not our hormones. Whether I go inside you or not does not change who we are to each other, understand?”

“I _really_ want you,” Koyama says, arching in Shige’s embrace, guided along by Shige’s hand that starts tracing along the muscles of Koyama’s lower abdomen. “Shige, _please_.”

“Not until you believe me,” Shige insists. “I can do this all night.”

Koyama moans out loud as his body jerks from Shige’s touch, which isn’t even anywhere indecent yet. He trails his fingers up Koyama’s chest, swirling around his pectorals and blatantly avoiding his nipples as Koyama’s whining becomes more incessant.

“I believe you,” Koyama finally gaps out. “I believe everything you say. I trust you with my life. That doesn’t change how fucking terrified I am that you will change your mind. I want you inside me so badly it hurts right now, but I want to keep you in my heart too.”

“The two are not mutually exclusive,” Shige tells him, giving in to both of their urges a little by kissing along Koyama’s neck and rubbing a nipple. Koyama’s resulting moan has him pressing closer, grinding his erection into Koyama’s lower back, and he makes it until Koyama rocks back pointedly before dropping his hand back between Koyama’s legs.

This time it’s much easier to stretch him, Koyama’s body falling pliant under Shige’s lavishing attention and whatever assurance he’d taken from Shige’s words. Shige expects him to turn around, returning them to their previous position before Shige had so rudely interrupted them, but he just leans back against Shige’s chest and accepts one of Shige’s fingers inside him, then another.

“You wanna do it like this?” Shige breathes into the shell of Koyama’s ear, and Koyama shivers as he nods. “Just a little more.”

He’s talking to himself more than Koyama, his own body more than ready to unite with the person he feels so strongly about in this moment. If he was thinking clearly, he’d realize that Koyama does have a valid concern about Shige looking at him differently after the haze of orgasm has faded, but right now Shige’s not that worried about it. Even without any physical intimacy, Shige’s default setting is unconditional love for Koyama—all three of them, actually.

If Shige were thinking clearly, it would occur to him that he relates to Koyama’s feelings more than he had previously thought. Koyama had just put them into words first.

But he’s not thinking clearly while three fingers deep inside Koyama, his own body pressing so close that he feels Koyama’s shudder everywhere they touch. His mouth is permanently fused to Koyama’s neck, his hips actively seeking friction from the sweat of Koyama’s skin as he finally allows his brain to take a backseat to his sexual desire.

“I’m ready,” Koyama breathes, so quietly that Shige thinks he’d imagined it at first, at least until Koyama reaches down to tug at Shige’s wrist. “Shige, I’m ready. Please go inside me now.”

This time, Shige is the one following orders. He hisses as he pushes in, arm looped around Koyama’s thigh to hold him open, mouth dropping to Koyama’s shoulder blades now that he can’t reach Koyama’s neck anymore. Koyama’s moans become low noises of relief, his body gradually pushing back as it becomes used to Shige’s length and craves more of it.

Their rhythm starts off slow as Shige absorbs everything about how this feels, the emotional elements instead of just the physical. His hand drifts up to lightly coil around Koyama’s cock and Koyama cries out his name, luring Shige even deeper into their intense connection, Shige’s own groans muffled by Koyama’s sweaty skin as they move together.

The combination of all of the different types of feelings swirl around in Shige’s head until all he knows is Koyama and how strongly he feels, showing it with every thrust and stroke. He doesn’t know how long they lie like this, riding the high of being so close together as opposed to racing for the finish like every other time, and after a while his reality seems to fade into a pleasant existence where it’s just the two of them existing like this and they don’t have to try and define it.

Koyama’s voice pulls him out of his cloud, mumbling about things like love and forever and the only reason Shige doesn’t freak out is because he knows what Koyama means by it now. All he does is hold Koyama more tightly, snap his hips a little faster and flick his wrist a little harder, until all that spills from Koyama’s lips is Shige’s name and Shige hasn’t quite known an orgasm like this before.

The semantics are still the same, Koyama coming over Shige’s fist while Shige pulses deep inside Koyama, but that’s not all it is. His heart and his mind are a part of it too, more than physical aftershocks lingering after they’re both still and catching their breaths.

“I still don’t think you understand what I mean,” Koyama gets out, and Shige’s gearing up to argue when he goes on, “but I’ll accept _that_ anytime.”

“Good thing I have the rest of my life to figure it out,” Shige says, fighting to push out the words despite how lame they are. “How are we going to tell Tegoshi and Masuda?”

Koyama laughs through his wince as he stretches out onto his back. “Tego will be easy. Massu...well, maybe I’ll just make him risotto first.”

“Speaking of...” Shige sighs. “There are _so_ many dishes to wash.”

“I cooked!” Koyama declares jovially. “That gets me out of cleanup, right?”

“It’s _my_ kitchen,” Shige whines, but he already knows he’s lost.

“Then we can maybe watch more _Love Live!_?” Koyama asks, and Shige rolls his eyes as he pushes himself out of bed. “Come on, admit that you like it!”

“Just because it’s your birthday,” Shige begrudgingly agrees.

As he shuffles out into the kitchen, not bothering to get dressed first, he’s already looking forward to returning the favor on _his_ birthday. Now that he is actually thinking clearly, he realizes that nothing has really changed, and it won’t change even if Tegoshi and Masuda accept Koyama’s unconventional feelings. They’ll keep moving forward as NEWS, and as four men who have grown up together and have a connection far beyond career goals.

Methodologically washing dishes lends to ruminating thoughts, but Shige’s mind is pleasantly blank. He’s not worried about the future because there’s nothing to worry about. Tomorrow, in another fifteen years, even when they’re too old to do much more than complain and reminisce, regardless of their respective families or whether NEWS stays together until the end, the four of them will still be in each other’s lives.

To Shige, who had long since accepted that he was going to grow old with these guys, there hasn’t been any other option. Koyama had simply spoken aloud what was already in Shige’s heart, cementing what he’d already decided for his own future.

And when Koyama surprises him with a back hug, equally as undressed, Shige feels like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be. Forever.


End file.
